


Electrified

by WizardsGirl



Category: Bleach, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, BAMF Harry, Betrayal, Don't worry it'll get better later but it's bad in the beginning, Gen, Healer Harry, Severe Injury, Slow Burn, Unbeta'd, Vocal Disability due to Severe Injury
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 14:35:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1391326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WizardsGirl/pseuds/WizardsGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry worked hard to become a Healer, desperate to leave behind the monster he'd been in the War, the Murderer. A betrayal, however, leaves him dead in his world, and damaged in another. There is nothing he can do but try and move on, however. After all, his Sensei had no place for those who wallowed in self-pity, and he wouldn't doubt that the harsh Healer would somehow find a way into this weird universe to kick his ass if he brooded too much...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue & Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just moving what I have from FF.N here at the moment, but this is a HP/Bleach Plunny I've yet to see, and so decided to give a try. Prologue & Chapter One combined due to shortness of Prologue. Enjoy! ^-^

_ Prologue _

 

Harry always thought that, when he died, it would be due to Voldemort. When the Dark Lord was defeated (by Harry himself, at seventeen), the cause of his death turned to Death Eaters. When they were all rounded up, it turned to Dark Wizards, Magical Accident, Potions Explosion, Assassination, and, tentatively, Old Age. Never once, in his twenty-seven years, did it ever change to Magical Electric Chair.

But, that's just the way his luck was. Betrayed by a jealous coworker, the Medi-Wizard (as Harry had become, as the nightmares from the War and PTSD symptoms made Auror work a psychological impossibility for the young Wizard) found himself drugged with a strong sedative, and strapped into an experimental Unspeakable project, an attempt to copy the old fashioned Muggle electric chair. The chair itself was a hard, unforgiving black-colored oak piece, with metal chains much like the witness chair he had sat in for various trials to give testimony. A pair of metal shackles locked around his wrists and ankles, those chains pinning his shoulders, torso, and thighs to the unforgiving wood, while a collar of similar metal wrapped around his forehead and throat. All Glyn Tobin had to do was press his wand against the metal stand five feet away, and use the spell _Fulmen_ , the Lightning Spell, and exactly one billion volts of electricity shot through Harry's bound and drugged form, sending his body into convulsions as muscles rapidly contracted and seized. Foam began to explode from his mouth, his eyes rolling back in his head as his heart was stopped and his magic violently disrupted.

Pain at the abrupt ending of his life, filled him, clouding his mind and making his Soul scream in agony as it convulsed on the ground of the familiar Ghostly Kings Cross Station, and, in his desperation, Harry twisted himself in an unknowing attempt at Apparation, his Soul not knowing that he was dead yet. As a result, Harry was not sent on to see his fallen loved ones, was not given over to the Realm of the Wizardly Dead, but instead, he was violently thrown into the Vortex of Chaos, where he spent an unknown amount of time, writhing in confused agony that slowly began to calm, Soul damaged almost beyond any repair, until he was abruptly spewed out of the Vortex, to sprawl in a twitching, mildly seizing unconscious heap on the leaf-strewn ground of District 64 of East Rukongai, of Soul Society.

Albus Dumbledore once told him that Death was just another Great Adventure.

Harry seriously doubted that _this_ was what the lemon-drop addicted old man meant.

 

_ Chapter One _

_Harry was dreaming..._

_But... These dreams were... Different..._

_Fragments, tatters, scenes and memories jumping sporadically through his mind, unable to focus on any one thing for long..._

_He was boarding the Hogwarts Express for the first time-_

_flash_

_"GRYFFINDOR!" the Sorting Hat screamed-_

_flash_

_"BOY! GET YOUR LAZY, WORTHLESS SELF IN HERE AND COOK MY DUDDERS HIS BREAKFAST!" Shrilled his Aunt Petunia as his seven-year-old self jerked awake in the Cupboard Under the Stairs-_

_flash_

_His first day at Saint Mungos, working with several other Interns under the eyes of the stern, unforgiving visage of Isamu Taki, the Japanese Medi-Wizard in charge of them and Head of the Spell, Curse, and Magical Object and Creature Trauma Ward, the most tasking Ward in the entirety of St. Mungos._

_"Listen up, you kuduran jisou! You will address me as Healer Taki, Sir, or Taki-Sensei! **Nothing Else**. I'm here to make sure you're not all dumbasses, **not** to be your friend! It is my duty to train you in the proper conduct of a Healer, and I promise you, that by the end of the next two years, you will not **only** be full Healers, but you will **hate me**. Hopefully, you'll even learn some damn Japanese so that when I tell you how much of a fucking **idiot** you are, you'll understand! Any questions?" The glare he sent at all of the "cadets" promised a painful reply if there were any. No one raised a hand. "Good! Now, let's put your asses to work, shall we?"_

_flash_

_"Potter!" Taki-Sensei, as he truly preferred, bellowed sharply; Harry flinched sharply, as he was prone to when confronted by loud noises, but raised his head from his paperwork with a questioning expression._

_"Yes, Taki-Sensei?" The blunt Healer stalked over with a huge stack of paper, and dumped it in front of him, making a few of the other Interns who were also filling out forms, wince in sympathy._

_"You're the only one who has chicken-scratch I can read out of this bunch. All of this by the time your shift ends. If you don't get it done, I'll have you staying after to clean bedpans and puke stains in every damn room on the Ward! Andaasutando?" Harry winced at the glower and threat._

_" Hai, Taki-Sensei!" He replied quickly, and sighed faintly in relief as the Healer stalked off to begin yelling at one of the other poor Interns on Clinic Duty, instead of Form Duty. Looking at the foot-and-a-half stack of paper, Harry grimaced, already imagining phantom pains in his wrist for the amount of writing he was about to do. After all, Taki-Sensei demanded every form be written twice. Once in English, and once in Japanese. With another grimace, Harry got to work._

_flash_

_"Tobin- baka!" Taki-Sensei roared, magic sparking around him furiously as he glared down at the short form of Intern Glyn Tobin. "What the fuck made you think that a fucking **Calming Draught** would be a good thing to give a **poison victim**?!" Tobin grimaced._

_"She was panicking! I had to get her calmed down so I could properly diagnose the type of antidote needed!" He defended himself; Taki barred his teeth in fury._

_" Baka!" He snarled. "You need a calm patient to diagnose?! News Flash! The patient is **never** calm when they're poisoned! They're **never** calm when they're brought in here at first, injured from something! The only calm patient is one that has fallen into **shock** or is **dead**! You are lucky Potter had the **brains** to grab a fucking Bezoar out of the Emergency Kit to fix your mistake and save the patient!!" Tobin bowed his head and glared angrily at the ground, lips thin and tight as a flush worked its way up his neck and cheeks, whether from anger or embarrassment at the rather public dressing down, Harry couldn't tell, focused as he was on taking all the vitals of the now exhausted but no longer poisoned Witch lying on the bed in front of him, answering her questions in a soft, soothing voice and telling her to rest._

_"You're off Clinic Duty for the next week, Tobin," Taki-Sensei announced, voice hard. "And for endangering the life of a patient un-needfully, you're on Bedpan Duty for that time. Get the **hell** out of my sight!" Tombin stalked off, fuming, as Taki-Sensei joined Harry in the patient's room, growling under his breath._

_" Kuso teinousha," he grunted; Harry made a point of ignoring it, and continued to sooth the patient as Taki-Sensei took up the reins on the vitals and required tests to make sure there was no more poison in the woman’s system, and no permanent damage._

_flash_

_"Congrats, jisou! You guys are now certified Medi-Wizards and Witches!" Taki-Sensei announced, smirking as the much smaller group of Intern's cheered. "If you're lucky, we'll never have to see each others fucking faces ever again!" A much louder cheer and some laughter. "For those of you who showed promise, though, you're still mine. All of your names are on the different sheets pinned to the wall behind me, labeling your test score as a whole, and which Ward you're being designated to. Those of you on the 'Pending' page aren't going to be working pending further testing. It was a fucking pain knowing you idiots, but here's to you getting the fuck out of my hair!" He held up a butterbeer. "Kanpai!"_

_" Kanpai!" Most of the Interns replied, toasting their trainer, before drinking some of their own butterbeer. Most settled into chatting as they carefully made their way to the lists. Harry and Glyn Tobin found themselves side-by-side, the redheaded man sneering at his "rival" while Harry ignored him and searched for his name, finding it on the extremely short list of Interns that were assigned to Taki's Trauma Ward Team, much to his relief. Taki was a hard taskmaster; he didn't give a shit for your feelings only your work, but he was fair, if blunt. Harry had gotten used to his ways, and had worried about having to learn the habits and personality of another Healer entirely._

_"What the fuck is this shit?!" Tobin shouted, furious as he finally found his name, on the medium-long list of Healers sent to the General Clinic for permanent rotation. "I should be in a Ward! I'm qualified! Healer! What the hell is this shit?!" He shouted, jabbing at his name while turning a furious glare to Taki, who looked totally unfazed._

_"Tobin, your test results and the results of your Internship put you where you're assigned, not me," he told the redhead bluntly. "You got good points on your Theory work, but your Practical and Internship results were pretty damn average, and even a bit below that. Now, shut the fuck up, I'm celebrating my lack of paperwork and idiots I'll have to deal with later." Tobin snarled angrily, stalking out of the room and slamming the door shut, making Harry flinch at the sharp, cracking sound, forcing back memories of The Final Battle and other fighting scenes._

_"Fucking child," Taki grunted, before downing some more Butterbeer and leaning back in his chair. Harry couldn't help but agree._

_flash_

_Voldemort's eyes were locked with his own, red and wide and **scared** as Harry plunged Gryffindor's Sword into his chest. Harry watched those red eyes dull as Death claimed the Dark Lord._

_The Memory of the life leaving those eyes will haunt Harry for years to come._

_flash_

_"Potter!" Harry turned, blinking in surprise at Glyn Tobin as the redhead trotted towards him as he had started out of the Ministry, where had had been talking with a few friends and meeting Minister Bones as a friend, the once DMLE Head taking her new position with surprising grace._

_"Tobin?" Harry asked; the redhead grinned and gestured at him to follow._

_"Hey, Potter! Come on, come on, come have a drink with me!" The part-time Clinic Healer suggested; Harry shrugged and followed him through several hallways as the two semi-colleagues shared polite conversation, mostly discussing a strange case they'd had lately or a ridiculous one, depending. They came to a stop in a clean, homey little lounge, coffee and tea provided. Tobin gestured Harry into a seat and got them both coffee, carefully juggling the two cups while adding the requested amounts of sugar and creamer, before stirring swiftly and returning, Handing Harry a red cup while he himself drank from a plain black one._

_"So, tell me, Potter, how's that Taki bastard, huh?" Tobin asked nonchalantly as he sipped his coffee, smirking as he watched Harry drink his own._

_"He's the same as usual," the Trauma Healer told him simply, shrugging uncertainly. He didn't know what Tobin wanted but he hoped it wasn't a favor. Everyone always wanted **favors** from him, either because he was **Harry Potter** or because he was a high-ranked Healer. His foot started to tingle, as if it was falling asleep, and he bounced that leg, trying to shake the limb awake. _

_"So, bitchy and rude?" Tobin remarked; Harry's lips twitched slightly up, before he began to frown as his other foot began to tingle as well, the pins-and-needles feeling beginning to crawl up his legs. His fingers twitched, before the same feeling erupted in them, making his eyes widen as he lost control of his extremities, his coffee-cup falling to the table, and bouncing to shatter onto the ground, spilling the coffee over the tabletop and floor._

_"Poison?" He asked weakly, his lips slowly starting to tingle and go numb too. Tobin smirked and set his cup down, the firm click sounding ominously final._

_"Oh, don't worry, it's only a temporary paralysis, you're not going to die from it. I just needed you nice and quiet for what I have in mind. It will take five more minutes before you lose all ability to control your body, so that's plenty of time to explain **why** I'm doing what I'm doing, which you no doubt wish to know." He folded his arms on the table, eyes half-lidded as he smirked coldly at the weakly twitching Harry._

_"You see, when we were Interns together under that squinty-eyed fucker, I was actually rather pleased. This was my chance to prove that you were nothing more than brawn, with no brain in that battle-damaged head of yours. That your place was out there killing and fighting, not with **us** , not as a **Healer**. You're a killer, after all, a destroyer. You’d never be able to truly separate yourself from your past, to **help** **anyone** without killing something. I was going to prove it to **everyone** that Harry Fucking Potter was nothing more than a **weapon** and should be **kept** that way!_

_"But you surprised me, honestly. Your experience in the Wizarding War helped you make quick diagnosis on every patient, and if you didn't know what to do, you had no problem asking for assistance and working under another's orders. Hell, instead of living up to my expectations, you **flourished** in the Trauma Ward, until you had shunted even **me** away from the prime place as a high-rising Healer._

_"I was **furious** when they put me on **Clinic** duty! Me! My father was a Head Healer of the Neurological Ward! He worked with patients from the top echelon of the Wizarding World, studying their brain patterns and the affects of mentality-effecting spells and curses! And they put **me** in the **Clinic**?! But they sent **you** , the **killer** , to the leading Trauma Ward in the entire Wizarding World?! It wasn't **fair** , it wasn't **right**! They **favoured** you, Potter, and shunted me off with the **rejects** and for what?! An average Practical examine and the word of a filthy foreigner?!_

_"But I'll have the last laugh," Tobin hissed, gray eyes bright and wild as he grinned, standing and pulling out his wand, flicking it at Harry's now completely numb form, lifting his senseless body into the air. "I will show the world that **Harry Fucking Potter** was nothing more than a **human** and could **die! Just. Like. Everyone. Else!** " He cackled, sounding borderline hysteric, as he turned and sent Harry floating off ahead of him, down the deserted hallways, towards a special room, where a special, experimental chair rested..._

 

It was the sun that woke him, shining on his face and closed lids, making Harry slowly squint open, groaning at the aching, cramped feeling of his body, and grimacing at the twitching of his extremities and a few muscles in his face and neck.

This was worse than waking up after a night spent drinking with his friends from the DA, and almost as bad as a night spent drinking with Taki-Sensei. After nearly ten embarrassing minutes of struggling with his cramping, twitching muscles, Harry managed to sit up, head flinching repeatedly as the right side of his neck cramped and twitched repeatedly. Carefully, Harry looked around, taking in the strange trees, the shining sun, and the abnormal amount of... _energy_ surrounding him. It wasn't _magic_ , exactly, but felt more like the kind of energy Taki-Sensei had always described as _spiritual_ , almost. Harry couldn't really explain it, even to himself, especially considering his brain kept fritzing and fogging up, making focusing on the strange feeling nigh impossible.

Whatever the energy was, however, it had also replaced his large reserves of magic, and while it was easier to grasp than his magic had ever been, it was harder to control. Trying to pull some into his musculature to heal some of the damage from his "shocking" death, resulted in some minor healing, and several arcs of electrical discharge coating his skin, little shots of static zipping this way and that, not hurting him in the least, but burning the grass and ground around him as if the little static shocks were actually miniature lightning bolts.

Groaning, Harry eventually staggered to his feet, and began to awkwardly walk, steps stuttering and jerking with every twitch and spasm. Wherever he was, he hoped he could find some help, or at least some food, but, if he couldn't, he prayed to whatever deity was watching over him, that he found some place he could meditate and hopefully control his new energy, because this was getting ridiculous and he was tired of the constant twitching and pain.

Sighing, head jerking towards his right shoulder as his neck cramped again, Harry began to slowly work his way towards the strongest point of the strange energy around him, hoping for the best but preparing for the worst.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I again appologize for the speach impediment in this chapter, I know it's annoying to read, but just bare with me, because it'll get better. ^-^ Thank you!

#  _ Chapter Two _

 

As Harry walked, hours passed with his slow progress, and he was forced to stop and rest every few meters and stubbornly try to use his new energy to heal. He'd learned quickly that the energy was as stubborn as he could be, and had started trying to _coax_ it into assisting him, as opposed to _forcing_ or _demanding_ it heal him. He found himself wryly amused that this power of his was just like him in certain aspects, and so different in others. He and IT were both stubborn, strong, and had a temper that was held back by self-control and willpower. He, however, was anxious and jittery and nervous now, at the best of times, and IT felt calmer, quieter, and yet impatient, as if it was waiting for something to happen, but wanted whatever it was to hurry the hell up already. Harry could understand the feeling, but since the War... His impatience had been beaten down by anxiety, his calm swallowed by nerves, and his quiet destroyed by many panicked thoughts and night terrors. Still, he could recognize himself in IT, and so he continued to walk.

As the sun started to sink slowly lower, Harry found himself greeted by the sight of the first humans he'd yet to see, and silently damned his luck once more. A trio of what appeared to be bandits were surrounding a young, mildly pretty woman, all four of them dressed in what the Healer recognized as Japanese attire, if a bit out of date. The three bandits each had a bladed weapon, and were unshaven and dirty from nights spent sleeping outside. The woman had a bruised cheek, a busted lip, and what appeared to be a broken arm, which she cradled to her chest, brown eyes wide and wet with tears, fear, and pain as the men jeered and taunted her, leering. Harry narrowed his eyes, and felt IT rear up to curl under his skin, small flickers of electrical charge arching between his fingertips and his muscles twitched lightly, until he curled both his hands into fists. He softened his face, letting a gentle smile curl his lips; eyes squinted mostly shut in a guileless, sweet expression he'd learned to use well during his Healing tenure.

Nothing made difficult patients fall in line like a sweet smile and an assuming face on someone who could kill them in over two hundred different ways...

With a paper-clip.

"Maa, e-excuse m-m-me, sssirss," he spoke in Japanese, inwardly scowling at his new stutter and lisp, feeling small spasms in the muscles of his throat and tongue that had created both. The Bandits whirled around, and the woman choked back a sob, fresh tears beginning to fall. It was obvious she was torn between relief for the distraction, and despair because Harry, in his strange-too them-pale green Healers robes _obviously_ didn't look like he could fight a precocious kitten, let alone three bandits with blades.

"The hell do you want, fucker?" One of them, a black-haired bandit with a heavy shading of scruff on his face, sneered; Harry tilted his head, still smiling and gently twitching. His scattered thoughts were difficult to corral, though they mostly stayed on subject, randomly thinking of the woman’s injuries, the bandits weapons, and the strange, distant static-like buzzing in the back of his mind.

"A-ah, I jusssst-t-t wannnnted t-t-to asssk-k ifff you could-d poinnnt m-me towrdsss a t-townnn?" he struggled to say; the bandit's sneer deepened as his companions called taunts towards Harry, until the Bandit before him lifted a hand, sneer slowly turning into a leer. His eyes drifted up and down Harry's form, and the twitch the formed above Harry's right eye had nothing to do with his electrocution, and instead a fierce sense of displeasure.

"Well, I don't know," the bandit said, leer widening. "I guess I could take you to one, but you'll have to pay me." Harry tilted his head the other way, letting his smile curl into a curious edge. _Must not castrate the idiot, must not castrate the idiot_ , was his silent mantra, even as the buzzing in his head got louder, making his temples ache as it took on a furious tone, if static could take on tones, of course...

"I donnn't hav-ve anny m-m-monnney, ssssir," he replied simply, watching slyly as the bandit stalked slowly closer, thinking himself the predator when he was the prey. _Step into my parlor, said the spider to the fly_ , was one of many random thoughts that crossed Harry's fritzed mind as he watched the man.

"You won't need any to pay me, cutie," he purred, leering hungrily as he reached out to touch Harry's face... In a flash, Harry's hand flew up and clamped unforgivingly onto his bare wrist, smile never faltering as IT sent a strong bout of electrical current into the bandit, making him scream and spasm, eyes rolling back and mouth foaming, body taut and straining, until Harry released him and he fell to the ground, unconscious, a large wet spot swiftly soaking the front of his pants and the smell of shit and ozone rising in the air. Harry lifted on finger, twitching it side-to-side in a chiding manner, even as sparks lit the tip up like a firework.

"Ah, ah, ah, nnno t-t-touchy!" he stuttered easily, still smiling as the other bandits snarled, lunging at him, their strange, bladed weapons in hand. Harry lifted his hands and pointed at those blades, which were held over the bandit's heads as they charged, and looked like particularly temping lightning rods. Electricity arced immediately from his finger tips, shooting through the air like small bolts of lightning, and connected with the very tips of the blades, which worked like perfect conductors, leading the electricity down into the two bandits and sending them into convulsions, just like their companion. Harry released them just as he had the first, however, and the two men joined their leader on the ground, lying in their own waste as Harry coaxed IT back into a calmer state as he caught sight of the terrified woman, who was looking a bit awed as well. He wondered, suddenly, if she liked apples, but quickly pushed the random thought away, not even knowing if he should blame his empty stomach or IT or the after-affects of his electrocution on the fragmented thoughts and memories fogging up his head.

"Arrre you ok-k-kayyy?" He managed, stepping neatly over the man in front of him and slowly walking towards the woman.

"H-hai," she stuttered in return, hunching in on herself and curling protectively over her injured arm.

"M-m-may I ssssee?" He asked softly, pointing at the arm. "I'm-m-m a H-H-Healerrr," he told her quietly, earning a wary, disbelieving look, before she reluctantly offered her injured arm, hand trembling. She obviously thought that she didn't have a choice, he could just zap her into compliance, so Harry made a point of carefully having IT retreat from his hands, so he could gently hold her hand and use his other one to prod carefully at the rest of the arm, humming at her reactions. IT kept back, and the faint buzzing in his head alternated between outraged and concerned, to his inner baffled amusement

"B-brok-k-ke," he told her calmly, and then began to concentrate as much as he could on healing her arm, IT coming up and obeying without IT's usual stubbornness, the buzzing going silent as IT poured into the injured limb with nothing more than a few tiny flickers of static at the tips of his fingers to show it.

"Oh!" she gasped, eyes widening in surprise. "It's tingling! And the pain is fading!" Harry offered her a gentle smile and continued to work, releasing her arm as soon as the break and the bruising was healed, before moving his hands up and gently cupping her face, carefully healing the bruises and split lip there. Once both were fixed up, he pulled his hands away, feeling a flush of pride as well as a tiredness that settled on his shoulders, making him give a sigh. The buzz was even fainter than before, but it sounded vaguely smug about something... Suddenly, his thoughts on the static-buzz were interrupted as the woman tearfully thanked him, grabbing a hold on his sleeve and beginning to carefully pull him in the direction of her house... Or so she said. Harry made a point of pulling away for a moment and stealing the bandit's weapons, two, he now saw, were farming blades called sickles, and the other was a plain katana with a dark, leather handle. Harry used the sash the bandit had attached to the end of the handle, to pin the blade to his back. It was an awkward hold, but he would fix it up later, when he wasn't as tired or hungry or vaguely in pain like he was now. Besides...

There was no reason those assholes should keep them, and the sickles could fetch a decent price, as they were in good condition.

For now, though, he allowed the woman to drag him along, learning her name was Kioko Maeko and that they were in a place called Soul Society… Or, well, in the East Rukongai, in District 64. It wasn't as nice as Seireitei, the center of Soul Society where the Shinigami, people who had powers like his apparently, lived, or the districts closest to it, but it was a much nicer District than the larger numbers, according to Maeko. She chattered at him continuously, answering his stuttered and slurred questions with surprising patience, as they finally arrived at a run-down looking farmhouse, with a single apple tree beside it.

"You go on inside and sit down, Hiroshi-san," the young woman ordered, using the name she had insisted on giving him when she failed to properly pronounce his 'Western' name. Harry gave an exasperated sigh, but obeyed, smiling slightly at Maeko's almost Hermione-like attitude. Bossy and pushy and talkative as long as it's something she knows, and he met Maeko under dangerous circumstances, just like Hermione.

Maybe Maeko was a split of Hermione's Soul? A trans-dimensional copy of his best friend? Was that an orange bowl of black rocks sitting on the small table in the main room of Maeko's house?

Blinking at his random thoughts, Harry pushed those questions to the back of his mind, and carefully sat on the mat next to the small table, sighing with relief as his trembling, aching muscles began to carefully relax. When Maeko returned with an armful of slightly-soft apples, Harry accepted them with gratitude and wondered if the chatty woman would mind if he stayed for a few days to try healing more of the damage his death had left him. When he asked, Maeko looked both thrilled to have someone to talk to, and unsure because Harry was still a stranger, _and_ a man, who had powers that could force her unconscious. Harry offered a compromise of him sleeping outside in the dilapidated barn, if she would be kind enough to provide a blanket and pillow, and that seemed to win her over. She carried the bedding out, and made him a nice-enough nest in some mildly mildew-scented straw, and then wished him goodnight and left him a single, long candle.

A bit of static from a fingertip had the candle lit, and Harry used it as a focus as he began to slowly try and clear his mind, or at least, organize his tattered thoughts into some semblance of order. IT crawled about under his skin, slowly fixing the damage from his death, which was more difficult than usual, considering how hard it was _normally_ to heal himself. Taki-Sensei had once told him that even his magic had put other's healing a small ways before his own, which was why he found it easier to heal others than himself, and why his own healing happened slowly when others around him were hurt, even if Taki-Sensei was the one applying the Healing Magic. After an hour or so, Harry finally gave up, tired but relatively pleased with the half-hazard organization of his damaged mind and the mild reparations done to his extensive musculature and nerve damage. He blew out the candle, ignoring the small flashes of white-blue that licked along his skin, and curled up under his raggedy blanket, trusting IT to leave the clothe untouched, as it had his Healer's Robes. Closing his eyes, Harry fell swiftly asleep, dreams flickering between memories and imagination, and IT still carefully, slowly working on his body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No new Vocab this chapter
> 
> Bleach Corner:  
> The following information is directly quoted from the Bleach Wikia online. I own none of it, and if I place my own comments, they will be in Parenthesis with stars (*Like this*). Thank you!
> 
> Soul Society: Soul Society is an afterlife (also called the spirit world). This is also where Shinigami live and is where most Souls dwell until they are reincarnated into the Human World.
> 
> Rukongai: Rukongai is the largest portion of Soul Society and the most populated. It is divided into 320 districts (80 in North Rukongai, 80 in West Rukongai, 80 in South Rukongai, 80 in East Rukongai). (*I would like to also add, the larger the number of the District, the more violence it's prone to, evidenced by Zaraki Kenpachi, who came from District 80, called Zaraki. The closer to Seireitei, the greater the number of patrols, so the lower violence*)
> 
> Seireitei: Seireitei is in the center of Soul Society, a circular shiro with four main entrances, each guarded by a Gatekeeper. The walls of Seireitei are made of stone called Sekkiseki, a material known to negate all Reiryoku, similar to magnetic lodestones. The stone also forms a spherical barrier around the city, which stops anything spiritual from breaching it.
> 
> Shinigami: Shinigami are guardians of the souls who are going through the circle of transmigration. Namely, they are "balancers." They exterminate Hollows who do evil in the World of the Living; they ensure the safe crossing of souls - the Pluses who have lost their way after death - by giving them a soul burial. Shinigami are the opposite of the Quincy.

**Author's Note:**

> DICTIONARY  
> (I used romajidesu . com as my reference, sorry if I used words in wrong context)
> 
> kuduran jisou! - Idiotic Children!  
> Andaasutando? - Understand?  
> Hai - Yes (more for a Yes Sir! sort of yes, however)  
> Baka! - Idiot!  
> Kuso Teinousha - Damn Imbecile/Moron (either works here)  
> Jisou - Children  
> Kanpai - Cheers! (Said when toasting a drink)


End file.
